Slowly Falling
by gtgrandom
Summary: Dick Grayson's time is running out. He only has three weeks to live after a group of kidnappers inject him with a toxin. Will he survive? And how will he handle his last few weeks, the symptoms, and the toll it takes on his emotions? Better yet, how will he tell Wally and his teammates?
1. Chapter 1

Leslie took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked exhausted. Dick noticed how pained her expression was, and he knew right away she had anything but good news.

"When Dick was held hostage last weekend, the kidnappers made sure that if the plan didn't succeed, which it obviously didn't, that you, Bruce, would still lose." She paused at the two faces twisted in confusion. "They injected Dick with a toxin, one that I have never encountered before. I'm guessing they figured if he got away, he'd need the antidote, in which case you would still have to pay the ransom to save him."

The information was sinking in slowly, but Dick knew it didn't end here. He scratched the cast on his arm anxiously.

"I've run several tests on the poison." Leslie pushed a stack of papers in front of Bruce. "The toxin is complex, and it would take months to create an antidote, if it is even possible. By then, we'll have run out of time."

"Out of time?" Bruce questioned. Dick glanced at him. The man was holding back a truckload of rage ever since he was kidnapped (again), but he managed to tuck it away so deep inside that only a growing frown struck the surface.

Leslie sighed. "Bruce, the toxin is eating away at Dick's organs; it's destroying him from the inside out. Luckily, it's moving very slowly, but," she looked Bruce in the eyes and lowered her voice, "he only has about three weeks left."

Dick felt his throat swell as the world around him blurred out of focus. The office became cold, the seat beneath him rigid. Bruce stiffened beside him, probably resisting the urge to punch a hole through Leslie's computer. "We can just get the antitoxin from the kidnap –" Leslie shook her head, and Bruce fell silent.

"I made a run by the prison yesterday to try and find out any information involving the antidote. Apparently the one they created was a fake; there was no cure. Once they had the money…" She turned to Dick, who was pale and eerily silent. "I'm sorry Richard. I'll do my best to find an antitoxin."

But Dick had stopped listening. He had approximately three weeks left. _Weeks._

How could this happen to him, to _Robin_? He was a good kid, you know, besides an occasional rebellious act or two. He ate his vegetables! (Alfred made sure of that.) He didn't deserve this.

No one did.

Leslie had been explaining all the details, using big words that all meant the same thing: not good. Bruce's hand had made its way to his knee, which was anything but comforting. When Batman was worried, he should be terrified.

And yet, all Dick felt was a mix of disbelief and numbness. He was out of time; his life was going to be over, like a lighted candle in a blizzard. He didn't even have time to write a bucket list, let alone accomplish all that would be on it.

He didn't deny it; the facts were there in front of him. It didn't matter how hard he willed them to be wrong. He didn't cry. He couldn't in front of his mentor, not anymore. When he was younger and he had nightmares about his parent's deaths, Bruce would comfort him and let him ball it out. But now he wasn't haunted by the past. He was haunted by the future, or lack thereof. He also knew Bruce would find a way to blame the whole thing on himself, and that was the last thing he needed right now. He just wanted all the pain and stress in his life to be zapped away. It wouldn't be the first time he'd wished for such a thing.

But most of all, he didn't understand. Hadn't he suffered enough already, losing his family and nearly every fiber of hope, but now to be diagnosed with an expiration date at 15? He was not whelmed, and he was worried he'd never be whelmed again.

* * *

The ride home had consisted of Bruce telling him all the symptoms he should be expecting, and which ones, if to occur, they should go to Leslie for.

"I'm not going to lose my hair, am I?" Dick asked, half-joking. He must have lost his sarcastic charm because Bruce took him seriously.

"Probably not. It isn't cancer." He answered. He didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Right, my chances would be better if it was." Dick said, leaning his head against the window. It was raining outside, and he wondered if the day could become any more depressing.

"Don't say that. Leslie said she would try to find a cure, and I'll be doing the same in the cave."

"Bruce, let's face it. I'm not going to make it, so you can stop trying to be all optimistic-"

Bruce slammed on the brakes, the wheels screeching. The force sent Dick forward and then back against his seat. They were left in the center of the road of a busy highway. He snapped his head around. "Dick, I don't want to hear you say anything like that again! I am not going to let you die, okay?" His voice was harsh, and yet Dick could identify something else in it. Certainly not fear, but… "You'll get through this. I promise."

His dark blue eyes bore into Dick's, and he nodded. Several cars honked as they hastily weaved around the Lamborghini. Dick realized Bruce hadn't just said those words for him, but for himself as well.

The rest of the drive home was silent, save the pattering of rain on the tinted windows.

* * *

"You look awful dude." Wally said, as Dick reached for his sunglasses to conceal his heavy eyes and the shadows underneath.

"Rough night," he replied. It was true. He hadn't been able to sleep, and his sprained arm had been killing him. However, he had decided against wearing the cast today; it would raise too many questions. With that they walked into the kitchen where everyone was gathered.

M'gann was mixing something in a large yellow bowl, and Connor was choking down a batch of her cookies with a façade of pleasure. Artemis was sitting on the counter, laughing at Connor's expressions, while Kaldur read the newspaper by the sink.

"Robin!" M'gann exclaimed happily, and the others looked up at Dick with surprise.

"Batman said you weren't going to be here for few a more days." Artemis said, sliding off the counter to greet her teammate.

Batman had informed the team that Robin had gone with him on a mission in Taiwan over the weekend, when he had actually been tied up to a wall with a gag in his mouth. It was hard when his friends didn't understand what hell he had been through, and at the same time, it made things much easier. If they knew everything that had ever happened to him, he'd go from the youngest and most experienced on the team to the poor little boy who would never be treated as an equal again. That was his theory, at least.

"Yeah, well he doesn't exactly know I'm here." Robin said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The others exchanged glances. "He'll figure it out though, don't worry."

"Well it is nice to have you here, my friend." Kaldur said, and the others nodded in agreement.

"We were just eating some of M'gann's cookies." Wally raised his eyebrows, warning his friend. Knowing Rob's identity had made him terrified for him when he saw the report of "Dick Grayson's kidnapping" on the news. He had been extremely glad to receive a call from him the night he returned.

"Yes, Robin, please have one. We've got lots!" M'gann levitated the tray towards him.

"No, I'm okay." Robin said. Normally he would have eaten one just to please M'gann, but he wasn't the least bit hungry. He had skipped breakfast, much to Alfred's dismay, and snuck to the cave to avoid seeing Bruce. Just the thought of eating made him want to puke, and he didn't think it was all from the disheartening information he had heard yesterday. The toxin was beginning to take its toll.

He noticed the hurt expression on M'gann's face, and immediately felt bad. He had to tell them sometime, but it was going to be hard. How was he supposed to tell his best friends that he was only going to live for another month? How would they respond?

Robin took a cookie, and M'gann lit up again. He decided he'd just have to make the time he spent with them count, and then maybe they wouldn't even have to know. He didn't want their last memory of him as a dying, pale teenager. He would preserve their feelings, at least until the time was right.

"Rob? Are you okay? You've been staring at that cookie for like five minutes." Wally's face scrunched in concern. He leaned close and whispered through his teeth, "They aren't that bad; you aren't going to die or anything."

Robin blinked, feigning a smile and biting into the rock-hard cookie. _If only you knew._

* * *

**Well that's it for now, guys! Let me know what you think! This is my first story here, so don't be too harsh pretty please. ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Three days later**

Dick grabbed his overnight bag and began his descent down the stairs, which had become quite an exhausting task the last two days. Then he heard voices that made him stop in his tracks. Bruce and Alfred. In Bruce's study. He set his bag on the ground and snuck behind the slightly ajar door, just enough to see Bruce and not be spotted.

"Master Wayne I demand to know what has happened to the boy! He has not cracked any jokes for the past four days, let alone touched his supper!" Alfred's voice loomed through the dimly lit room.

"Alfred, you may want to sit down." Bruce motioned to the chair across from him.

"I am a butler Master Wayne; I do not sit. Now, is it the kidnapping? Did something happen –"

"Dick is dying, Alfred."

The old man sucked in a breath, and Dick felt the urge to run in and hug him. Those words were so cold, so awful. But they were true. "He only has a few weeks, unless we can find an antidote to the toxin that is running through his veins. It's not looking good."

After a long moment of silence, Alfred spoke in a broken voice. "Where is he?"

"He wanted to stay at the cave tonight, with his friends. He's probably there by now." Bruce glanced at the door, and Dick shrank back. He knew he was there. Hello, Dick! Of course he did; _he's Batman_.

* * *

"Give me the remote, Baywatch!" Artemis yelled, trying to snatch the device out of Wally's hand. He sped to the other end of the living room.

"Come and get it, _Sweetheart_." He smiled devilishly. That did it. Artemis appeared next to him in a second and tackled him to the ground. Wally let out a pathetic scream.

Robin sat back, enjoying the scene. Zatanna was showing M'gann her new cell phone and how it worked, while Connor, who had his arm draped over M'gann's shoulders, argued how it was useless when you have super hearing. Kaldur was playing chess with Garfield, who seemed much more interested in the fight between the golden couple.

Artemis had Wally pinned and crying. "Rob, buddy! Help me! Ahhh!" She twisted his arm backwards and he dropped the remote, a sob escaping his lips. Robin laughed at his best friend squirming beneath his own girlfriend.

"Thank you, _Sweetheart._" Artemis bent down and kissed him on the cheek, returning to the loveseat next to Robin. She flipped back to her television show.

"That was asterous if I do say so myself," Robin said, smirking at Wally's ragged breathing. Wally gave him a look that screamed _Dude!_

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I was beginning to think something was wrong with you lately." Artemis quipped, lightly poking him in the ribs. It scared him how her little jab sent pain through his entire body.

Robin smiled sadly. "Nah, just a little tired. I've been on patrol nearly every night this week."

"I thought you were in Taiwan with Batman?" Artemis countered.

Oops. The Bat would have his head for a slip up like that. "Well, yeah same thing." Dick shrugged, hoping she didn't catch on to his lie. But he'd known Artemis for nearly three years, and he knew she could see right through him almost as well as Wally.

He tried not to notice her watching him. "Whatever you say, Boy Wonder." She ruffled his raven hair.

"Not the hair! Not the hair!" He protested, laughing.

It was nice to laugh, to hang around with his friends. He needed an escape from the manor. Bruce had been spending all his time in the cave, running tests and staring at computer screens. Alfred had been shoving plates of food in front of him every second, and he had felt horrible by refusing his wonderful meals time and time again. Then there was school, which simply sucked. Usually his physical education was a breeze, but he could hardly manage to do curl-ups anymore. Not to mention Babs, who insisted something was wrong with him and mentally noted every yawn, sneeze, and cough Dick let escape.

Suddenly a voice erupted over the speakers. It was Batman.

"Team, suit up for mission briefing in five," he ordered. The team exchanged excited glances. They loved missions, even if they interrupted their team bonding nights.

Usually Dick would be ecstatic, but for some reason he just wasn't up for it. He didn't want to fight; he wanted to soak up the moments he could with his team. He wanted to watch Wally and Artemis wrestle and bet on who would win, and he wanted to comfort the girls while they watched their biweekly horror movie. _I guess I'll just have to enjoy their company while shooting batarangs,_ he thought.

"Rob, didn't you hear him?" Wally asked, after everyone had left the room. Robin was still sitting back in the green loveseat.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

* * *

The briefing was simple: Sportsmaster had been smuggling in weapons to an unknown source, and it was the team's job to find out who that partner was. They were loading a shipment tonight at the harbor on the south side of town. It was a covert mission only, observe and report, yada, yada, yada.

The team deployed to the bioship, and Robin began to follow when a voice he had dreaded hearing called his name.

He slumped his shoulders and sauntered back, despite Batman's haunting glower. He had gotten used to the "Bat glare", and he actually found it quite amusing most of the time. However, now that it was directed at him, it wasn't so funny.

"I don't want you to go." Batman said sternly.

Robin's eyes widened behind his domino mask. He was _not_ expecting that. "What? Why?" He felt like he was losing control, like life was slipping through his fingers faster than he could muster. He was going to die in two weeks, and he couldn't even do what he loved the most? He didn't even have a say?

Batman's white slits upturned just a little. "You know very well why. Leslie said herself said that she did not want you participating in any kind of _extracurricular_ activities; your body can't handle it."

Neither of them noticed Superboy turning around to watch them, a look of curiosity plastered across his face.

"Batman, I've fought and defeated thirty of Joker's goons with five broken ribs and a fractured knee. I think my body can –"

"You know that's not what I meant." Batman said. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Dick, if you go out there in your condition, you might not come back."

Robin balled his fists. "Bruce, do you think I care? I've faced death since the day I became Robin!" He felt so useless it made him want to cry. He heaved a sigh. "Look, I don't want to go parading around, and I'm not trying to prove anything to the team," his voiced dropped to hardly a whisper, "I just…you of all people should know that I don't like the idea of my friends getting hurt while I'm not there to stop it, prevent it. I can't lose any more people than I already have."

Batman stared down at him, contemplating the situation behind the black cowl of his. "Go. But Dick…" He met Dick's gaze, and even behind the mask, Dick could feel the blue eyes peering into him again. Bruce didn't have to finish his sentence because Dick knew exactly what he was trying to get across. He nodded solemnly, and ran off towards the bioship.

Bruce Wayne did not convey emotion well, let alone Batman, but Dick had learned over the years that he and Bruce had a special connection. They could read each other and understand one another better than most fathers and sons could. They didn't need to use words. All of the feelings were there, and while they didn't reveal themselves most of the time, Dick knew they existed. That's all that mattered.

He climbed aboard, pretending not to notice the questioning looks of his comrades.

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews and support guys! I'll have another chapter up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

"See anything?"

"Nothing yet." Robin replied. He put the binoculars down. He and Superboy were positioned on the top of a four story building for aerial view of the dock. So far there hadn't been any suspicious activity, and he was getting anxious. Plus he felt seriously indisposed, heavy on the "in". His head was pounding and his stomach was burning, but the toxin wouldn't prevent him from standing guard, from being part of the team. If anything, it would fuel the anger to fight.

Superboy glanced sideways at him, and when Robin turned to look at him, he quickly shifted his eyes elsewhere. Robin sighed. "What is it Supey?"

Connor knit his brows together. "Nothing."

Robin rolled his eyes, but then remembered he was wearing a mask and said, "Obviously something's on your mind. You keep looking at me like I'm going to explode or something."

Superboy hesitated and then let his shoulders sag. "I overheard you and Batman earlier."

Robin's breath hitched in his throat. He stood up, looking wearily at his older teammate that he had grown to see as a brother. How much did he catch on to? Did he know his secret identity now, did he figure out he was sick?

"What exactly did you hear?" He tried to sound indifferent, but the dread in his voice was clearly present.

"Well, Batman didn't want you to come on the mission for some reason, something about you not being able to handle it." Superboy confessed. He turned towards the shorter boy. "What aren't you telling us, Robin?"

Robin froze. Superboy didn't know everything; he could get away with telling some white lie that would make the whole thing blow over like nothing ever happened. But how much longer could he really keep this secret from his friends? Wally would kill him for not telling him earlier, and if he died by the time he found out, he would resurrect him and kill him again.

Robin opened his mouth to answer when Aqualad's voice broke the silence. "Team, we are under attack! Sportsmaster has brought armed men! Our cover is blown! We need assist –" The line went dead. Robin heart skipped a beat at the warning over the psychic link. He guiltily looked down where they should have been watching and saw at least fifty men with guns and other weapons file out of the docking house they had disregarded. The team came out of their hiding places and began attacking. So much for _covert_.

Superboy jumped down from the building, creating a small crater with his landing. He waved for Robin to pursue.

Robin took out his grappling gun and then suddenly buckled over. His chest was on fire; it felt like someone had taken a fork, jammed it in his rib cage, and twisted it 180°. His eyes widened; his breathing was growing sparse. His lungs were shutting down, which meant he couldn't get enough oxygen into his body. Bruce had said this was one of the more serious side effects, but it was much more painful than he had speculated. Dark spots began creeping into his vision. _That couldn't be good. _Robin gasped for air, stumbling towards the building wall for support. He couldn't see because the world was spinning so fast. He had worn drunken goggles once for training with Batman, but this didn't even compare. He reached for the wall, his hair matted to his sweaty forehead, but his hand found air instead. He swayed backwards, and then he felt himself falling.

* * *

Down he soared, his cape billowing around him. He tried to use the grappling gun, he tried to release the trigger, but he couldn't do it. He was going to die, like father like son. This was it. He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the impact.

3…

2…

1...

He realized after a minute that he was no longer falling. The impact hadn't come. Or maybe it already happened. Maybe he was dead. No, he could still feel the searing pain in his chest. Opening his eyes, he discovered he was hovering a foot above the cement. Not hovering, levitating.

M'gann dropped him as she delivered a kick to the man charging at her. Her face was a combination of terror and determination. Robin tried to lift himself off the ground, but he was too weak. He gave up and collapsed on the pavement, curling into himself and convulsing every few seconds. His heart was barely beating.

It was then that two familiar arms scooped him up and carried him bridal style into a black vehicle. Dick couldn't take it anymore, and he let out one last breath before his head lolled to the side.

* * *

**Cliff Hanger! **

**Don't worry the next chapter is posted.**


	4. Chapter 4

Dick awoke to the beeping of a heart monitor and the stench of rubbing alcohol.

_A hospital._

Dick hated hospitals more than anything on the planet. They smelled like old people who had bathed in sanitizer all their lives. He opened his eyes, and it took way too much effort. The bright light of the room cast down on him gaily, and he saw Bruce Wayne sleeping in the chair next to his bed.

There was one of those damn tubes up his nose. He hated those things too. An IV line and several other hoses and wires decorated his arms and bare chest. His stomach bore a new scar that was an ugly shade of purple. He lifted the blankets and gave a sigh of relief that at least his boxers were there. He shouldn't be embarrassed about that kind of thing, but hey – he was only 15.

He stretched for the cup of water that was on the nightstand, but he couldn't quite reach it. His fingers barely made it to the rim of the glass, but when he tried pulling it towards him, the cup fell over and water spilled all over the floor.

Bruce started at the noise, snapping his head up and looking around in alarm. 

Robin cursed. He reclined back on the so called "mattress", wincing in pain.

"Sorry," he said.

Bruce smiled and scooted closer to the boy. "I'm glad you're awake." Dick opened his mouth, but Bruce answered him before he could speak. "You were out for three and a half days, Dick. It's Tuesday."

Dick glimpsed at the window sadly. He was running out of time. He looked back at Bruce. "The team –"

"They're all fine. Sportsmaster was taken care of…They're mainly upset about you," Bruce said. He watched Dick shift uncomfortably. "I didn't tell them anything, but you better do it soon. Wally almost had a cow…" Bruce sighed. "You really gave us a scare this time. Your lungs were shutting down because the toxin was leaving no space for oxygen in your cells, you had extremely low blood pressure, and when you fell you went into shock. Simultaneously, as if it couldn't get any worse, your liver was failing due to all the poison it couldn't filter. You needed a transplant immediately."

Dick bit his lip. He really should have died. If Bruce wasn't, well, Bruce, he would never have gotten a donor in time. He thought back to that night, and the memories began to resurface all at once – the pain, the thought of dying just like his parents, the way he'd given up so willingly. Why did his life have to be so screwed up?

"Fortunately you came out of surgery just fine. Your lungs are functioning back to normal now, and you should be out of the hospital by tomorrow night. The poison however, is still underway," Bruce's smile faded completely. "Leslie's been working on that antidote. She's almost there, Dick."

Almost there. It should be reassuring, shouldn't it?

It wasn't; instead it just bounced off of Dick like another meaningless pair of words.

God, where was his sanguinity? He used to be the positive one. He used to be the little troll who could make everyone laugh and lighten everyone's mood, even Batman's. Now, things were just so messed up.

Dick's eyes began to water, and he tried to wipe the tears away before Bruce saw. Bruce's hand caught his forearm and pulled it away. "Dick, look at me."

Dick sniffled and slowly met his mentor's eyes. What he found in them, he didn't expect. "It's okay to be afraid."

Dick's eyes stung and a lump formed in his throat. He let out a noise that was supposed to be a snicker, but sounded nothing alike. "That's coming from you, _Batman._"

Bruce sat down on his bed and placed his hand on his adopted son's shoulder. "I was _terrified_ when you were kidnapped, and even more so when I saw you fall off that building, or when Leslie told me about the poison. But sometimes fear gives you the strength you need." Dick gazed up at him with glistening blue eyes. "Dick, I'm here for you, and so are your friends."

Dick felt a salty tear drop off his chin. "You and me, we're invincible, remember? Batman and the Boy Wonder! We'll work through this together, and you _will _pull through. You always do."

Dick smiled and Bruce pulled him into a hug. The boy had grown so much since he had taken him in at the age of nine. He had matured and become a leader much like himself. But Bruce also knew that while they shared many things in common, that Dick would never be _the _Batman. He didn't have the severity for it. He would become his own person, and Bruce wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

Dick refused to use the crutches. There was already enough about his kidnapping on the news and public media; he didn't want an entire new story about his little "accident". He limped to the front doors of the manor, but before he could knock, Alfred opened the door and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Dick wrapped his arms around the old man, although he would hardly describe him as _old. _Alfred was a _beast_ when it came to doing things, plus his cooking was godly.

Alfred cleared his throat and smiled at Dick. "Master Richard, I've made a fresh batch of cookies and a tall glass of hot chocolate. I do hope you have an appetite, I could barely stand the idea of you eating that _dungeon_ food."

Dick stepped inside. No matter how sick and awful he felt, he couldn't turn down _that_.

* * *

**Hope you guys liked it! I know it's sad. The next chapter is really sad too. Anyways, please review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this isn't that long, but I'm tired! ^o^**

* * *

Dick had been staring at himself for 15 minutes. He was standing shirtless in the bathroom, a stone cold expression on his face. He had already puked four times that morning, the last time just a series of dry heaves. That wasn't the scary part.

He didn't recognize himself. He was pale as a ghost; he looked like he hadn't seen the sun for years. Several patches on his skin revealed protruding blue veins, intoxicated with the poison. His hair was in disarray, his eyes red and sunken in, dark circles growing beneath them. The light that used to shine in his them was gone. He cringed at his skinny waist and arms. He still had muscles, but he had been too thin to begin with, according to Alfred, and now, it was just sad. He was like a shell of his old self, a drained and frail Dick Grayson.

"Dick?" A voice called.

Dick whipped around and hit his head on the open door of the cabinet.

A red-headed teenage girl crawled through his window and halted when she saw her friend.

"Hey Babs," Dick said hoarsely, rubbing his bruised temple. He hadn't been to school in a while, and he knew she must have been worried sick about him. Her blue-green eyes looked him up and down in concern, and he remembered he wasn't fully dressed. He walked into his room and took out a Gotham Academy sweatshirt, pulling it over his head and sitting down on his bed.

"I, uh..." She stood still, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Is Barbara Gordon speechless? That would be a first." Dick remarked. He'd have to congratulate himself later for managing a joke.

She sat down on the bed next to him, and took her backpack off. "I brought you some schoolwork." Her voice was shaky; he was nervous she would cry. He couldn't handle that. "Most of your teachers said that you didn't need any more stress and didn't give me anything for you, but Mr. Mathews wants you to complete this packet on-"

"Babs." Dick said. Bruce had told her the news yesterday when they went on patrol together. She was acting like she didn't know to spare his feelings. "It's okay." He gave her a small smile.

That pushed her over the edge. She sprang at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her hug hurt and he could barely breathe, but it was nice to have someone besides Bruce and Alfred there to comfort him. He leaned into her as she cried. He had only seen Barbara cry once, and that was when she almost died after an encounter with the Joker. Then she had pretended like there was something in her eye. Now it was just… unsettling.

She pulled away from him, pushing her auburn hair out of her face. "I'm sorry. I totally ruined your sweatshirt." He looked down at the large wet spot on his chest.

"That's okay."

They sat like that for a moment, staring at each other.

"Dick, are you...okay?" She asked quietly. Her hand landed gently on top of his cold one.

He took a deep breath. "I've been better." He glanced at the window and the brewing storm clouds outside. "Did you climb up here?"

"Yeah, I knew Alfred wouldn't want you to see anybody." She squeezed his hand and then took out a manila folder from her backpack. "Here. I – I should probably go. School starts in about ten minutes."

Dick nodded sadly. She headed for the window and stopped. "Dick?" She turned her head towards him. She looked like she wanted to say so many things but couldn't decide where to start. "You're my…I…no. I'll see _you_ next week. And don't forget about that homework, Pixie Boots." And with that she hopped out the window.

* * *

The team, including Roy, was standing in the graveyard, clad in black and gray. Bruce stood from his crouched position. _Wait a second. Why is Bruce Wayne with the team? _Robin moved closer, only to wish he hadn't. There were two tombstones he had very much memorized in detail and location. His parent's graves. But what caught his eye was a third tomb. Engraved on the face read the words:

_Dick Grayson_

_1997-2012_

_A hero, a friend, a son._

_ You will stay forever in our hearts. _

Dick swallowed. This had to be a dream. He wasn't dead, at least not the last time he checked. Everyone was so somber, so upset, he couldn't stand it. Even Kaldur, who Dick had always pictured clear in the head no matter what the circumstances, hung his head in grief and something resembling guilt. It was disturbing. Dick watched Artemis, who had tear streaks glistening on her face, place a black domino mask at the base of the tomb. Zatanna, in a much more distraught fashion, whispered a spell, and a patch of small red flowers grew around the stone. Dick's heart hurt.

It wasn't from the toxin.

M'gann came and knelt in front of the monument. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was trying to hold back a fit of sobbing. "Rob–Dick, I always thought of you as a little brother. I love you so much, and I'm so, so sorry this h-happened. I should have been looking out for you, and I – we all failed you." She said in a hurt, shattered voice. Robin reached out to try and comfort her, but his fingers passed through her like she was a holograph. _It isn't real. _He tried to assure himself._ It isn't real. _

After a few minutes, Connor, whose only sign of melancholy could be seen in his eyes, but which were heavy and dark with sorrow, helped M'gann up. The team said their goodbyes, leaving the two people who meant the most in the entire world to him. Bruce and Wally.

Wally's head was down, but Dick knew he was crying. He would be in the same state if Wally had died. The speedster looked up at the sky, biting his lip as more tears cascaded down his cheeks. Bruce placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, but his face was so stern and icy it couldn't possibly be consoling. Wally took a deep breath and turned to follow his team. "Goodbye, Dick." He gave a small salute and then disappeared down the path.

Bruce crouched back down to face the tombstone. His fingers traced the surface, moving slowly over Dick's name. The man shut his eyes tight. He remained that way for such a long time, Dick wasn't sure if the scene had frozen or not. Finally, Bruce opened his eyes. A thin, almost invisible drop of water ran over his cheek and down his jaw line.

Dick sprang awake. His hairline was drenched with sweat, and he was panting hysterically. He sat up, only to immediately regret it. Darting to the bathroom, he buckled over the toilet and retched, shaking violently. He wiped his mouth and slumped against the wall.

He began to cry.

* * *

**Poor Dick! Next chapter he confronts the team! What do you guys think will happen?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here you guys go! Thanks so much for favoriting and reviewing! If you didn't do either of those things then thanks for reading this far!**

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"Are you sure you're up for it? You can barely walk."

"Bruce, I have to do this." Dick limped towards the zeta tube that had been built in the bat cave. At the moment he was dreading teleporting to Mount Justice and experiencing the wonders it would do on his stomach more than anything.

"Alright. But if you start to feel uncomfortable or dizzy –"

"I'll be fine," Dick assured him. It was odd to see Bruce so concerned for his wellbeing. While it was nice that he cared, Dick wished he would get off his case, just a little.

Wally was going to kill him. It was as simple as that. He had called at least 30 times on Dick's cell, and half that many times at the manor, but Dick never had the guts to answer. Now he needed to know, they all did. Dick had approximately one week left, and he was going to spend it with his extended family, regardless of Bruce's or Leslie's orders. He stepped into the circular entrance, and just before the rays of light began to encompass him, he reached for the crutches leaning against the cave wall. On second thought, Wally may not go so hard on him if he looked like Tiny Tim.

"Recognized Robin, P01."

It wasn't as nauseating as he had expected. That is until he heard Wally roar from the other room, "He's so dead!"

Dick glanced around in panic; there was nothing to hide behind, and reaching the air vents in his condition, pssh…as if. He braced himself for his friend's wrath, but the wrath never came.

"Dude, if you didn't look like a zombie, I would punch your teeth out."

Dick looked up to see Wally standing there, arms crossed and frowning. The original members of the team filed out from behind him. They were dressed in their civvies, and it looked like they had been lounging around the mountain, playing video games and eating the junk food Red bought. (Wally had him convinced that Twinkies and nachos were healthy meals.)

They stood there in shock, all sharing a countenance of disbelief and worry, something Dick had gotten used to by now. "Hey guys." His voice was weak, and he could see Wally and Kaldur flinch at the change in octave. He pulled off the hood of his sweatshirt, revealing the web of veins spreading across his left ear and over his temple. There was no need to hide it anymore.

They stood there for a second longer, until a tidal wave of hugs and questions came crashing down on him.

"Where have you been?" Hug.

"What happened on the mission?" Hug.

"What happened to _you_?" Hug.

"Are you okay?" Hug.

"You look like shi-"

"Guys!" The last one wasn't a question, but rather an observation by Wally. Robin sighed, pulling away from M'gann's embrace. "I'll answer all of your questions in a second, but maybe we should go somewhere where you can all sit down. It's some pretty heavy stuff." That shut everyone up, much to his relief. When no one moved he rolled his eyes and limped to the green couches of the lounge, the others following warily.

He sat down slowly and painfully, purposely avoiding everyone's eyes. Artemis sat down next to him cautiously, as if the slightest movement would shatter him. Wally stood in front of them. His eyes darted to Artemis. "Scoot over."

Artemis huffed. "Get your own seat, Baywatch." But once she saw the chilling look in his eyes she moved aside, muttering something under her breath.

Wally sat down and crossed his arms. "Spill."

Robin took a moment to look at his teammates, his family. They were all so concerned, so worried about him, just like in his dream. He could trust them; there was no doubt about that.

He inhaled deeply and then removed his sunglasses, causing a chorus of gasps. "Dude!" Wally exclaimed, after a moment of utter astonishment. Robin had been unmasked. By _himself_. "Do you realize what you just did?"

Dick smiled, his cobalt eyes almost finding their light again. An enormous weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. "Yeah, I do." He said quietly. Wally face-palmed, probably thinking about Batman and what he would do to them.

Artemis seemed the most stunned of them all. "Dick? Dick _Grayson_?" She asked incredulously. She started piecing together everything that had happened between the two of them, her eyes growing broader by the second.

Dick nodded, thinking back to all the times he'd messed with Artemis at school. "We'll laugh about this someday…" He winked, and her mouth fell open.

"Wait, so your name is Dick Grayson? Like Bruce Wayne's kid?" Connor asked, earning surprised glances from everyone. He crossed his arms. "What? I pay attention. It's not like I just watch static."

Dick nodded again. M'gann scrunched her eyebrows together. "That wouldn't make Batman…?"

"Mr. Wayne." Kaldur answered, unfazed.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "You knew?"

"I had my suspicions." Kaldur said, shrugging.

"Okay, so what does that have anything to do with…this?" Wally gestured to Dick's body. Dick's face lost its amusement.

"Two weeks ago, I – Dick Grayson, was kidnapped, again, by some amateur criminals holding my ransom at 30 million dollars."

M'gann gasped. "_Again_?"

Dick ignored her. She had no idea. "Anyways, Batman – Bruce – saved me, but not before they injected me with a toxin. A really, really, bad toxin."

Wally straightened beside him. He had a hunch of where this was going.

"I was taken to the hospital, and they fixed me up. Then my doctor called me back the next day to tell me…" He paused. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. _Just do it. _"…to tell me that I only had three weeks left." He exhaled. "Now it's just a week, if I'm lucky."

Artemis and Wally paled.

"What do you mean? A week until _what_?" M'gann asked softly.

_Martians._

"Until I'm dead." Dick answered flatly, shutting his eyes. He had dreaded this moment for so long; he couldn't meet their gazes. Betrayal. Fear. Rage. Angst. He didn't want to see. The silence in the room was torture, and with no central heating in the mountain, he shivered down to his brittle bones.

Wally numbly looked at his friend. He was seriously beating himself up inside, much like he had when his uncle Rick passed away. A part of him wanted to scream at Dick for not telling him sooner and storm out of the room, but that wasn't what he needed right now. He needed his best friend.

"Dick, open your eyes." He placed his hand on Robin's back. He could feel his bony spine through his sweatshirt. "Dick." He said more firmly, and the boy complied.

"I'm sorry." Dick whispered, peering around the room. They all had tears welling in their eyes, refusing to come out in front of him. Nearly everyone in that room had lost something precious to them in their lifetime, but this…this was their little brother, the troll who could never be tamed, never broken. He'd give his life for the team any day, and he had one of the bravest souls they had ever encountered, especially for his age.

But their little hero was dying.

"I know I should have told you, especially you, Wally. I just, I didn't want you to remember me this way." Dick's voice dripped with guilt. "I didn't want you to pity me, to think any less of me than you already do."

Kaldur frowned, his eyes sympathetic. "What do you mean? We all respect you, Robin, for good reason. You're an impeccable asset to this team."

"I know you respect me, it's just…I'm already _human_. Now…" He bit his lip, turning to Artemis, whose head was buried in her hands. She knew how he felt. She alone could understand it.

Wally wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer. "I get it. I'm fuming mad, but I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing." Dick was surprised at his friend. He didn't expect him to handle it so…maturely. It was kind of scary.

M'gann cried. Her sniffling was the only sound for a few fragile minutes.

Then Superboy stood. He had been handling his anger much better these days, especially now that Superman talked to him. But this was one of the few times Dick wasn't sure how he would react.

"I don't understand. Can't we do something? Can't they just suck it out of you?" He growled, balling his hands into fists.

Dick shook his head. "They're working on an antitoxin, but they can't make one in time. I almost died that night at the harbor because it cut off my air supply. The next time I won't…." He couldn't finish.

That was when the tears came. They were silent, but they wouldn't stop. He didn't try to stifle them. Wally drew him into a tighter hug, and one by one the team sat around him, holding and comforting him the best they could while they tried to dry their own tears. They stayed in that huddle for an eternity, but none of them noticed the time. It was passing them by much too quickly.

* * *

"Not again!"

"Are you _trying _to lose?" Artemis teased.

"He's cheating! He probably hacked the game again!" Wally cried, throwing the game console to the other end of the room. Dick smiled. Things were great, as great as they could be under the circumstances at least. It was getting close to the end of the week, he had lost count somewhere along, and he felt the best he had in a while. Sure, he still felt nauseous and had that feeling of something foreign snaking through his veins, but that was nothing.

It was the calm before the storm.

Gar ran into the room. He and Zatanna had been informed about his current state the day before. Zatanna had tackled him that morning with painfully long hugs and kisses. Dick blushed every time he talked to her, so finding himself wrapped in her arms had taken its toll, leaving him vulnerable to Wally and Artemis' torments. Garfield checked on him incessantly for the past two hours, even after Dick assured him he felt fine. "The girls want to see you in the waterfall room."

Dick glanced at Wally, who was suppressing a smirk. "What's going on?"

Artemis helped him off the couch. "Just a little something for our favorite bird."

He smiled.

They walked down the hall together and turned into the same room Dick and the others had needed counseling in after the disastrous training exercise. That was long forgotten though, and when Dick stepped into the dark room, the lights flickered on and he felt his heart swell.

A banner that read "Happy Birthday Robin!" hung on the ceiling, the "bin" in Robin squished together in order to fit it all on the paper. Streamers and balloons decorate the walls. Dick saw the faces of the entire team, each person wearing a birthday hat and smiling happily.

"It _is_ your birthday, right?" Garfield asked tentatively, after Dick hadn't said anything for a while. "Wally told us, so we couldn't be sure."

"Hey!"

"No, it is March 21st, I just forgot, I guess." He hadn't even realized his birthday was coming up; of course he _did_ have more important things to worry about, but still. He snapped out of the trance. "Thanks, guys. Really."

"That's not all! I made cake!" M'gann exclaimed. She uncovered a pan, displaying a somewhat crispy cake pasted haphazardly with red and yellow frosting. The team exchanged worried glances, and then they all broke up into laughter. She looked around in confusion.

"Thank you, M'gann. It's awesome." Dick said, holding back another chuckle. She smiled gratefully, completely oblivious.

Suddenly everyone's eyes enlarged, directed past him at something. "I do believe we are late, Master Bruce."

Dick swiveled around on his crutch to find Alfred and Bruce standing there, awkwardly carrying gifts. "Um…" That was all he could manage.

Bruce already knew he told the team his secret ID. He had been fine with it. Dick didn't know if that was because he knew Dick was going to tell them and had already come to terms with it, or if he figured Dick was going to die, and it didn't matter anyway.

He _didn't_ expect him to find out about the party and actually show up as Bruce Wayne, accompanied by his butler.

Bruce entered despite the gawking teenagers. "Happy birthday, Di-"

"Alfred! Please tell me you didn't forget your cookies!" Wally interrupted, appearing next to the old man in a blink of an eye.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. West."

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**There. I ended it on a happy...happi_er_ note**. ******Don't worry, it's not over yet!*******


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry I keep doing this to you. (Robin cackle) I did some research on the whole poison thing, but forgive me if it sounds unrealistic or inaccurate. I just wanted to make it exciting!**

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"That one was on the flight home from Bialya. Wally fell asleep and Robin and Artemis drew on his face with a permanent marker." M'gann pointed to a picture of a slumbering Wally with a black mustache and uni-brow. She had made a scrapbook over the last couple of years, featuring the team and their memories. She had planned on showing everyone on the team's anniversary, the Fourth of July, but the timing had just been right.

"You said you deleted that picture!"

"Wally, when will you learn? We don't destroy _anything_ that could serve as possible blackmail." Artemis said, sitting down on his lap. The team was huddled around M'gann and Dick, who sat beside her.

"You're right. Where's the picture of the time Rob and me put pink hair dye in your shampoo bottle?"

Robin snickered. "That was hilarious, but I'd never been so scared in my life."

They all laughed, thinking back to the days when things were much simpler.

Bruce smiled. At least Dick was enjoying himself.

He checked his watch; he should really get back to the cave to check the computer. He had been analyzing a sample Leslie had sent him of a possible cure for Dick. An associate of hers had noticed a peculiar pattern in the toxin, and she had spent the last week searching for a treatment. He just needed to see how it would react to Dick's body through a computer scan, and then it might neutralize the poison. He didn't know if it would reverse it.

The problem, besides the obvious, was that there was not a true antitoxin. The poison in Dick's bloodstream was a combination of several kinds of rare chemicals, and after finding an antibody for each individual, using a variety of plants and animals supplied by Leslie, he had to find something that could bind to and counteract all of them at once. It was harder than it sounded. If he injected this new antitoxin into Dick, there was a possibility his body would reject it and he would die immediately.

No pressure.

"Master Bruce, why don't you come and join the party? The team has a talent for lifting spirits."

"Thanks Alfred. But I should probably be going." Bruce muttered, still lost in thought. Dick's contagious cackle brought him back.

"I remember that one! That's at the pizza place where we poured the entire salt shaker into Supey's soda and – "

"Robin!" Bruce shouted. The teen looked startled. "Your nose is bleeding."

Dick reached for his upper lip, pulling his fingers back coated in red. His throat became very dry all of a sudden, and he swayed with dizziness. "Uh, oh."

He could feel his eyes begin to roll back. _This can't be happening! _ Then he began to shake. His whole body twitched violently and painfully, like his nervous system decided to self-destruct. He fell to the ground, and he could hear muffled voices yelling his name. His insides were burning.

_No! NO! _He was just starting to feel normal again! His neck suddenly yanked itself to the side, making him let out an agonizing scream. "Make it stop!" He cried, unsure if he said the right words. Everything hurt, everything shook. He dug his nails into his flesh to try to distract himself from the scorching sensation, but it didn't work. He didn't have control anymore. He coughed, and he saw blood splatter across the floor. _Crap. _

Someone screamed, probably one of the girls, most likely Zatanna. Maybe Wally. He felt himself being hauled over someone's shoulder and marched through a bright light. The world spun around him like the world's most disturbing merry-go-round.

Then he realized he was being laid down on a table, or maybe a bed. He couldn't tell. He ground his teeth, pain searing through him in unimaginable waves. _It has to be over soon. Just get it over with! _ He wanted it to end, he wanted _him _to end. The pain was so excruciating – why wasn't he going unconscious?

His vision was blurry, partly because of the tears in his eyes, but he could make out a figure with blonde hair dashing into the room. He thought it was Leslie, actually, he hoped with every fiber of his being it _was_ her.

"His cells are no longer recognizable to his immune system. He's suffering from autoimmunity!" She yelled, running out of the room and back again. Dick knew what that meant. Surprise! He actually learned something in Biology last year: his body was attacking itself.

He groaned as another tremor shuddered through his body. She checked his pulse, her hands icy as ever, and her face fell. "Bruce, we need to do it. Now." She lit a lamp above him, obviously not worried about _blinding_ him.

"It's not complete. We don't know if he'll survive the injection!"

"It's his only chance! Without the antibody his immune system will destroy the only things fighting the toxin! Bruce, we must act."

Dick couldn't make out his mentor's face, but he could imagine how he felt. They had both faced similar scenarios before. Usually Batman could find a way around _impossible_, but not this time. Not when it could hit this close to home.

Bruce exited and returned, holding the most painful looking syringe Dick had ever seen. He was still writhing, trying to fight the battle inside him. Bruce appeared next to him, lifting Dick's sleeve to his forearm and preparing to inject him with the antidote. Then Dick remembered something. Something very important.

"Wait, Bru….uce." He mumbled. Bruce leaned closer.

"Hold on, Dick. You're going to make it." He brought the needle to his arm.

Dick desperately struggled to find words. "Nnno. Listen…a folder…my desk…in the manor." He hissed in pain. He needed him to find it.

Bruce nodded. "Okay, Dickie. Don't worry." Then he impaled Dick's arm with syringe. Dick screamed. His body lurched upward as though he had been electrocuted. Bruce pushed the plunger, releasing the fluid into his artery. Slowly Dick's body eased itself back on the table before he went slack.

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**dun. DUN. DUUUUNNN! **

**The end. **

**(Just kidding.) I'll post the next chapter soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks again for the reviews! Your support really encourages me to make more! **

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Dick was definitely not in Kansas – er, Gotham, anymore.

The first thing he was aware of was how numb he felt. The terrible pain he had witnessed just a second ago seemed to have vanished completely. He didn't know if he was breathing, and he couldn't smell or taste anything. Then he opened his eyes.

It was pitch black. He was in some kind of wall-less, open field, where everything or _nothing_ rather, was dark and colorless. Go figure.

A terrifying thought occurred to him, only he didn't actually _feel_ anything: Was he dead? Was this dark oblivion "hereafter"?

If it was, it sucked_._

He always pictured death as unfortunate, but in a way rather welcoming. He wanted to see his parents again; he wanted to forget all his troubles. _That may have come off as a little emo_. To clarify; Robin didn't want to die. He really did NOT want to leave all his friends and Bruce behind. But somewhere inside, he couldn't help but crave to feel at peace, especially when he had been suffering so much lately. He didn't know if he exactly _believed_ in the afterlife, but he hoped something like that existed; it made it possible to be reunited with his loved ones.

Well this was nothing like what he had imagined.

He got up; at least he thought he did. He wasn't exactly sure if he was moving or not. It was like he was paralyzed, and yet he could still function.

He wandered around aimlessly. Walking was like strolling on air; his feet never actually touched anything, and yet he could still move normally. It contradicted so many laws of science, it almost hurt. He was about to give up and sit down when he heard a very peculiar sound. A song? It sounded familiar. Something from when he was a child, perhaps. He followed the music resonating sweetly from somewhere in the distance. It was like wind chimes and a woman humming, synching together perfectly. The noise grew louder, and he became aware of the darkness surrounding him lightening as he moved forward, or backward. He wasn't certain which.

The music stopped suddenly, much to his disappointment. He looked down to find a small yellow light hovering in the air. It moved and Dick leapt back, but it didn't harm him. It just swam in the air like…like a firefly on steroids. Dick smiled. At least he still had a sense of humor here. Wherever _here_ was.

The light danced around him, zigzagging through his legs and around his body. Then it started to fly away, leaving Dick no choice but to follow.

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Leslie had ordered Bruce to get some sleep, and after a few hours of insistent pleading, he finally left Dick's side. It had been nearly three days since the "incident." For three days Dick had been comatose, and they still weren't sure when, or if, he'd wake up.

It was up to him, really. His body had locked down on its own after the trauma and severe pain Dick faced during the injection and autoimmune attack. In the coma, his body was finally able to fight back at the toxin, and he began to heal. J'onn had been in and out of Dick's mind for the last 48 hours, breaking down the walls of his subconscious to lead him back. So far Dick's brain activity had remained the same, and Bruce was growing uneasy. It was better than him not surviving the inoculation, but…Bruce wondered how much more the boy would have to suffer before he finally passed on. Dick had told him once that if he ever became a "vegetable", he wanted Bruce to pull the plug. And Bruce would do just that when the time came.

He didn't want to see him this way. He was already so weak and drained, which contrasted his personality in too many ways. Now, he was temporarily dead. But he also couldn't risk it. What if Dick woke up? What if he opened his eyes right when they decided to end his life support? Bruce wouldn't have it, so all he could do was wait.

He entered the manor silently. It was late, and he really did need a couple hours of sleep. He stalked up the staircase when he remembered the last thing Dick had told him. Something about a folder on his desk.

He turned down the hallway and cracked open the door. Dick's room was as neat and crisp as a hotel room. In other words, it was _unused_. Dick wasn't the messiest person in the world, but if Alfred wasn't there to scold him, one would think he didn't know how to use a hanger…or a washing machine for that matter. There was the same old Flying Graysons poster on his wall next to a picture of the team taken last Christmas.

He walked stiffly to his desk, where a manila folder lay out in the open. Bruce took a deep breath and peered inside. There was a creased letter and one of his domino masks.

Bruce almost put the folder back on the desk and walked out of there, but Dick had been so adamant.

He took out the note, unfolding it carefully.

_Dear…everybody,_

_If you're reading this, the poison has probably taken its toll. I'm sorry about the grief I put you all through, and I hope you stay whelmed after I'm gone. Seriously, I don't want you spending all your time mourning over me when the sun's still shining. Yeah…that sounded pretty cheesy. Anyways, I've always been more of a talker than a writer, but there are some things I really need to tell you. Being a bat, I don't exactly display a lot of feels, if you catch my drift. So here it goes._

_First off, KF. You are my best friend, and I know I hardly ever say it, but you mean the world to me. I don't know what I'm going to do without someone always there making snide remarks or eating all the food. Who's going to laugh at my jokes, even when they aren't that funny? …But seriously. I'm so glad I had you there by my side through the good and the bad. Stay asterous; I know you'll make it far. _

_Babs. I can't write enough. You are sassy and smart, and unfairly talented. You're one of the few people who know me inside and out. Don't be mad at me for leaving you. I'll always be with you, I swear._

_To the team, you don't know how much I will miss going on missions with you. M'gann, you are a beautiful person, so don't let anyone tell you different. Kal, please don't beat yourself up. I need you to stay strong and lead the team, for _me_. Supey, don't hold in all your emotions, share them with the team. I know that's coming from me, _Batman's_ protégé, but I regret not telling you all these things in person. And for the record, you're just as good a Superman as Clark will ever be. Zee, hold on to hope. Your dad will come back, I know it. Gar – make sure you carry on the role of the troll. I know losing your mom is hard, and I can honestly say the pain never completely dies. It does subside though, especially when you have friends like these guys. And Arty, keep Walls in check. I always felt like we had a special relationship, and I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear how much you meant to me. I love all of you. _

_Alfred…this is really hard. You're like a grandfather to me, only you kick butt at everything. I'm going to miss you telling me to walk down the stairs, not slide down the railing, or to pick my jacket up off the floor. I hope you know how much I love your cooking, but most of all, how much I love _you_. We don't say those words that much – ever – around the manor, so I wanted to tell you now, just in case you never knew._

_Finally, Bruce. Where do I even start? You took me in as a frightened, lonely boy, and you trained me and taught me so much. You molded my life in more ways than you'll ever know, and I couldn't be what I am today without you. Thank you for that. Listen, I know you turned to Batman when your parents were murdered, and I'm asking you now not to go into another dark place. I don't want you to lose yourself because of me. I want you, when the time is right, to find a new Robin to carry on the legacy. I won't hate you for it, (just as long as you don't disgrace the uniform.) Help another kid who doesn't have a family, who wants to make a difference. Batman needs Robin, and so does Bruce. _

_I know you never really saw me as a son or a child-figure. That's okay, because for the first few years after losing my parents I knew they couldn't be replaced. We both knew I didn't want a new dad, so we never talked about that sort of thing. But Bruce…you really are my father in more ways than not, and I'm going to miss you._

_Goodbye. Although, it isn't _really_ goodbye. I'll always be there, laughing at you when Canary takes you down in training, or when you forget to replace the batarangs in your utility belt. Stay traught. _

_-Dick._

_P.S. The mask is for Wally. Souvenir._

Bruce set the paper down slowly. He sat down on Dick's perfectly made bed, trying to process it all. Then he covered his eyes with his hand, pressing down on his temples as if shading the world from his sight. He sucked in a shaky breath and dragged his hand to cover the top of his mouth.

The Dark Knight wept.

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**The tears are coming! AHHHHH! Still not over, I'm not an author who will leave you hanging...at least not at the final chapter. Oh and sorry if the coma thing is too cliche, but I wanted to extend the story a little longer. **


	9. Chapter 9

A week had passed and there was still nothing from Dick. Manhunter insisted he was making progress, but it was like Dick kept getting farther and farther away from his reach. It was as though something was pulling him deeper into his own subconscious mind, and if J'onn couldn't catch up to him, Dick would be past the point of no return.

J'onn needed a break, and Bruce had to take care of some things at Wayne Enterprises, so while they were gone, Bruce invited the team to Dick's hospital wing. Sometimes people could hear things when they were in comas. Maybe if Bruce couldn't get through to him, his friends could.

"Are you okay, Gar?"

"Yeah, Sis, hospitals just give me the heebie-jeebies."

"Don't worry. It's one fear every superhero has in common." Artemis said as they made their way to Dick's room. It _was_ pretty scary when you thought about it. There were so many different medical tools that could be used as weapons, so many people to keep an eye on, and very few places to hide. Not exactly a dream location for someone trained in combat. Not to mention you could _feel_ death. It was similar to a cemetery, only the before, not the after.

"Noted." Gar said quietly, as an old man in a hospital gown passed him with his stroller.

They were five: Artemis, Kaldur, M'gann, Wally, and Gar. Connor didn't want to come. He felt trapped in these kinds of places, but no one could blame him there.

Though M'gann knew that wasn't the only reason he didn't join them. He didn't want to see Robin helpless again; it was too much. The last time they saw him so broken, so fragile, was at the party when he had collapsed on the ground. It had been horrifying to watch him writhe on the floor, screaming for them to "make it stop". M'gann still had nightmares about it.

"This is it, guys." Wally said, stopping at a door at the end of the hallway. Wally knew Bruce liked to keep Dick as far away from the press as possible, so he wasn't surprised that his room was on the top floor, under the surveillance of two security guards.

Wally showed them his pass, the others copying him, and the guards stepped aside for them to continue. "Yeesh. I guess having a billionaire as a dad has its cons." Artemis whispered.

"You have no idea. Dick always hated the paparazzi." Wally chuckled. "…although, he was a natural when it came to speaking in front of cameras or answering press questions. He was a performer after all," Wally said. He realized he was using past tense. Dick was still here. He wasn't gone, not yet.

They sat down in the chairs surrounding Dick's bed. The kid looked like he was sleeping, but Wally knew an extracranial coma was nothing of the like. They sat staring at him for a long while, the only sound the perpetual beeping of the heart monitor.

"Wally, when you said Dick was a performer, what were you talking about?" M'gann asked innocently. The others turned towards him with interest.

"Well…I don't know if that's my story to tell." He ran his hand through his auburn hair, thinking about his friend and all that he had seen and done in his 16 years. "But Dick trusted you with his ID, so I guess I might as well get it over with. He could barely tell me anyway…I don't know if he'd be able to do it again."

"Tell you what, Wally?" Kaldur asked softly.

Wally sat forward. "His past."

* * *

Dick was bored.

This stupid ball of light had been leading him through a maze of darkness. Now, it was gray all around him, and with each step it changed another shade lighter. How long had he been here? Hours? Days? Time didn't seem to exist in this place.

He heard something. It was a muffled sound, but it came from behind him, opposite of the way he was being led. It sounded like a voice. A male. He stopped, and the orb of yellow light came to circle him again. _Good God_ that thing was annoying. He shooed it away, straining to hear what was being said. The ball hovered above him impatiently.

"…grew up in a circus…" the voice stated. Dick froze. That sounded a LOT like Wally. Images began to form around him, replacing the gray atmosphere with three-dimensional pictures. No. Not pictures… _memories_. Of Haly's circus. They were like video stills, with radial blurs around the outlines of objects. There was the familiar blue tent on his right, the bright lights signifying a performance. He found himself inside the "big top" where people had been preparing for the show. There were familiar faces everywhere, beaming and frozen in time.

He spotted two people in particular that stood out among the others. It couldn't be…and yet… Just as Dick tried to get closer the voice spoke again.

"…mob boss…" He said, and this time Dick was sure it was Wally. His friend was there in the darkness, reciting his life story. He stepped towards the voice and the orb appeared in front of him, nudging him back towards the brighter end.

_No, _he thought. _Home is that way! _

The images morphed into a scene that he had tried to put out of his memory countless times in the past; he had almost convinced himself it never happened. Zucco. Tony Zucco, the man responsible for the deaths of his entire family.

He stood there in his authoritative stance, hands in pockets, and hat covering his flickering eyes. Dick had to restrain himself from lashing out at the memory, from tearing the man to shreds. Zucco motioned to Jack Haly and then a poster of the circus on the wall. Jack shook his head, pointing towards the door. Dick saw his younger self watching through the crack, blue eyes peeled with interest. That was the worst part. He had known. He hadn't told anyone he saw the horrible man before the performance. He should have done something; he should have acted when he spotted Zucco sitting in the crowd, a damn smile spread across his lips. But he hadn't.

The reminiscence shattered as Wally said another word. It was only one word, one syllable, but Dick didn't want to see the images that formed subsequently. "…fell…"

Dick closed his eyes. He'd already relived that nightmare over and over again in his sleep. He didn't need to see it again. When he opened them he recognized himself lying in the bed of the old orphanage, holding on to a stuffed animal while he cried.

"…so sad…" It was a new voice. M'gann.

"…mission…didn't even realize…" Another female. The rasp in her voice confirmed it was Artemis. Dick pushed past the tenacious yellow sphere and ran back the way he'd come. He needed to get back to his friends, to the voices in the darkness. Only, he wasn't moving. He realized he was running in place, like when he was a child and used to walk the wrong way on the "moving sidewalks" at the airport.

Something behind him began to glow very bright. Cagily, he turned his head to see that the once diminishable orb had grown twice the size of Dick. It looked like the sun, drawing him in with some kind of gravitational pull. Dick screamed. He tried to get away. He willed himself to advance, but his feet were slipping.

The memories melted around him, turning into dark shadows and bloody walls. Arms of white light snatched his ankles, sending him face first into the untouchable ground. They dragged him back, much like he'd imagined the creature under the bed doing when he was six.

He yelled for help, knowing that no one could hear him but trying anyway. He'd lost the battle. After all this time, all his hard work, he'd still succumb to death. A bat fluttered towards him from the shadowy end of the abyss, and he reached out for it before he was engulfed in light.

* * *

"That is so sad. I can't believe he was holding that in all this time!" M'gann said. Dick Grayson had suffered so much. Nothing like that should ever happen to anyone, especially at such a young age.

"_I_ can't believe that we went on that stupid mission for Haly a while back, and we didn't even realize what it meant to him! We must have seemed so shallow." Artemis related bitterly. She'd known Dick had some kind of circus background; people at school teased him about it. But they didn't know the half of it.

Suddenly Dick's cardiac monitor began beeping loudly and much too quickly. The team stood up at once, looking around in alarm, not quite sure what to do. The waves on the screen were going berserk.

"What's happening? Is he waking up?" Artemis asked. A line of nurses came crashing through the door before they could answer, not even aware of the people still in the room.

"His brain waves are almost flat! It's hardly sending any signals to his heart." One of the nurses said, attaching something to Dick's IV. "Prepare the defibrillators, we may need them."

One of the nurses turned towards the group of teenagers. "You all need to…" She tilted her head. It looked like they were in another world, staring off into nowhere. They all glanced at one another at the same time and – this was the scary thing – nodded, simultaneously. The nurse raised her eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but you need to leave."

She ushered them out, about to shut the door when she noticed something…off. "Weren't there more of you?"

They turned, their faces dark and frightened. "No. Just the four of us," the dark-skinned boy replied. She nodded and shut the door.

* * *

M'gann was invisible. Well, in camouflage mode, at least. They all agreed she had to try it. If J'onn were there he'd know what to do, but seeing that he wasn't, it was up to her. She had to bring Dick back. Preferably _now_.

She entered his mind.

* * *

**Next chapter is posted!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Wooo! Second to last chapter...probably.**

* * *

Chaos. That's how she'd describe it. There were memories leaping at her in all directions. Elephants charged, wires unhinged, Joker cards littered the air. It was like all his past and future thoughts had been unleashed.

The pain bouncing off the walls of his mind was overwhelming, but she had to keep pushing. She soared through the levels that J'onn had managed to unravel until she came to a large set of doors. It was a little cliché; usually unlocking something this deep would require a lot more effort, but then again, in the back of his mind Robin was blunt and straightforward, just like Batman.

She placed her hand on the threadbare wood, her eyes glowing green as she focused. Breaking into someone's subconscious was dangerous, not to mention difficult. It had taken J'onn a week to get this far. But she was M'gann M'orzz. She had learned years ago that she wasn't any ordinary Martian, especially when it came to her telepathic powers.

She stopped. A bright light was seeping through the key hole, growing brighter and brighter.

"Noooooooo!" Dick's voice erupted from the other side, causing her to step back cautiously.

The doors blew open, sending a wave of light upon her and knocking her to the floor. She heard an alarm go off somewhere in the distance and realized Dick's heart had stopped. She needed to hurry. They could always start his heart again, but once his brain was dead…

She got up off the ground and walked through the double doors. It looked like a bomb had gone off, like some cataclysmic event had destroyed everything.

M'gann found herself in a barren wasteland that had been stained gray with ash. What was left of the buildings and trees were on fire, and violent tremors shook the crumbling ground. His mind was becoming unstable. Like _seriously_ unstable.

Thunder cackled from the terrible storm clouds above, sending a streak of lightning and another quake upon her.

It had to be the defibrillator. They were trying to bring Dick back to life.

Something landed on her nose. She looked up to see little lights and torn pieces of paper raining down, like shreds of many memories, and she was worried he was lost forever.

But then she caught sight of something a couple hundred yards away, grasping onto the ledge.

Dick.

He was desperately trying to hold on, his fingers slipping across the hoary rock. He was dangling over an abyss, the bottom of the pit ghostly white, as if heaven was calling him and wouldn't take no for an answer. M'gann soared through the air and dove for Dick's arm just as his hand left the edge.

She caught his scrawny wrist, and his weight along with her momentum caused her to slide forward so far she was almost in need of saving herself. They came to a solid stop, and M'gann released her breath. She'd gotten there just in time.

She looked down at Dick, who was hanging onto her with fear in his sapphire eyes. He had burn marks on his clothes and skin, and they looked so real she had to remind herself it was all in his mind. They were still in his mind! _Hello, Megan!_

She hauled him up using all her strength. Dick wasn't very heavy, but there was some kind of force pulling him down. It was frighteningly indomitable. Once on the ground, he collapsed into her arms, panting and shaking with a blend of emotions. At first she was taken off guard; this _was_ the son of a certain bat, right? But then she saw past Robin and instead found a little boy who had lost more valuable things to him than anyone she had ever known. She rubbed soothing circles over his back, just like she did when Gar needed comforting.

It was over. Dick had broken free from his coma.

The next lightning strike illuminated the sky.

* * *

M'gann's eyes jerked open at the same time electricity traveled through Dick's body. He twitched, but his muscles barely contracted.

The doctor removed the electrode paddles from the right breast and left rib cage of Dick's chest. "I need 1200 volts at 360."

The nurse he was speaking to hesitated. "That's more than a 700 volt increase-"

"Do it!" He ordered. The nurse complied, and the doctor placed the paddles back on Dick's body. "Charging, charging!"

"Clear!"

Dick lurched upward this time, but the awful prolongation of the beep remained. The nurses stared at the heart monitor with wide eyes. He was still flatlined. They had three chances, as many as the machine could offer, and they were all up. That's when the doctor swore and began performing CPR on Dick. He pushed down on his chest forcefully and swiftly. "…28…29…30…" He blew twice into Dick's mouth.

_Come on._

"…21…22…23…"

_Come on, Dick._

He was still unresponsive. After another two rounds the doctor sat back, pain and sorrow already drilling holes inside his eyes. He removed his sterile mask to mutter, "He's gone."

_No! _M'gann covered her mouth to stop herself from freeing a strangled cry. How did this happen? She had just been with him in his mind. He had _just_ been looking at her with those beautiful eyes, the unmasked wonders that she was so rarely acquainted with. He couldn't really be…_gone_.

Everyone in the room turned towards the adolescent. Long strands of ebony hair draped over his forehead, pale face and slightly open mouth tilted upright. He had barely reached the peak of his years, had barely seen the world.

Dick was dead.

* * *

The doctor slowly moved towards the heart monitor, facing the wretched reality of losing another patient. He so rarely failed, so rarely messed up. Now he'd have to tell the boy's father, his friends; the same old heart-wrenching process. Sometimes he wondered why he'd taken up this field in the first place. It was to help people, right? Then why couldn't he help Dick Grayson?

He realized something was wrong. He stopped, turning on his heels to face the stunned expressions of his colleagues. It took him a moment, but then he too shared an air of astonishment. It wasn't that something was wrong, in fact, it was the complete opposite. The long beeping that had filled their ears for the past ten minutes had ceased to a slowly progressing chirp.

He whipped around to the monitor, and he couldn't believe his eyes. The waves were dancing again, not at a vigorous rate, but they were moving! And…that wasn't all. His brain was…fully functioning. The doctor blinked, making sure he wasn't just seeing things.

His eyes darted to Dick. His stomach rose and fell peacefully, just like it should. Dick groaned and fluttered his eyes.

"Yes!"

The nurse closest to the exclamation jumped and looked around, but M'gann had already disappeared through the door. She seemed to be the only one who noticed a sudden outburst of joyous cries from outside the room.

The doctor let out a chortle of disbelief. This kid had just come out of a 10 day coma and almost 11 minutes in the afterlife.

* * *

**Kind of stupid, I know. I didn't really have a plan when I started writing this story, only that Dick was injected with a toxin. So forgive me if I'm a little scatter-brained and what not. Review pretty please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for reading till the end, everybody! All your reviews, feedback, and favoriting has made it a blast! I'll probably post another story one of these days...leave suggestions on what you would like to see!**

* * *

Bruce Wayne almost smashed through the doors of the elevator as he waited to get to Dick's room. Dick was awake! He'd finally gotten the call from the hospital that he'd wanted to hear for so long now. Dick heart had stopped after his brain activity had nearly ceased. Then, somehow, his brain waves bounced back up again and his heart began beating. According to the doctor who had witnessed it, he'd never seen anything like it. Bruce, however, knew that it was no miracle.

At last the doors opened and he ran to Dick's room, ignoring the protests of the nurses. Dick was there, sleeping peacefully, but alive. They had told him even though he was nearly recovered from his coma, the side effects would still take place. That included a lot of sleep and short visiting periods.

The team sat around him, everyone about ready to doze off. Bruce entered as quietly as possible, quickly pulling a chair up next to Dick and sitting down. He placed his hand on Dick's and looked up at the team, everyone now fully aroused. He knew they had played a big part in Dick's recuperation, especially one Martian in particular.

The team met his eyes. Bruce Wayne smiled.

"Good work, team." The man said, and then he lowered his voice, his eyes softening. "Thank you." The teens looked at each other in surprise. Where was a video camera when you needed one?

Bruce nodded towards the door and the team obliged, trying to hide their relief. They had been waiting with Dick for hours, and honestly, it was pretty boring. Not to mention the emotional roller coaster they had been through the past week was sending them through serious exhaustion.

"M'gann," Bruce said as she walked past him. She stopped, coming back around to face him nervously. "You did something to Dick, when he was…dying."

"Yes…I know I'm not supposed to enter people's minds, but I thought I could finish what J'onn had–"

"M'gann, you saved him, you brought Dick back. I cannot thank you enough." His voice altered saying the last couple words. She smiled gratefully and followed the others.

Bruce turned back towards Dick. He'd actually made it through. While Bruce had tried to keep a positive attitude and work on finding the cure, he'd really been scared out of his mind about it all. He had to be strong for Dick, though. He'd had to act like everything was going to work out, even when he knew it wasn't. It's what Dick always did for him. He was the sanguine one, the one who looked at things with a golden hue. When he was so close to death, the least Bruce could do was return the favor.

* * *

Dick sniffed the air and groaned. _God damnit!_ Another hospital!

He's never had one, but he felt like what he imagined to be a major hangover. His head pounded, his stomach churned. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, and he could tell he hadn't used them in a while. His throat was dry, like it always got in the stupid medical room. He swallowed to try and relieve the drought in his mouth, only to be thrown into a cough attack. A hand reached behind him to pull him slightly upright, while a cup of water was placed to his lips. He drank, and the hand lowered him back against the pillow. He finally found the strength to open his eyes.

It was extremely bright, even more than usual if that was possible. Then again, maybe his pupils were still dilated. He turned his head to see a man clad in a frazzled business suit, who smiled down at him with almost a bittersweet countenance. _Ca-reepy. _Dick cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Do...do I know you?"

The horror passed briefly across Bruce's face before he gave his famous not-really-a-smile, smile and shook his head. "After all you've been through and you can still joke."

Dick grinned teasingly. "It's part of my charm." He tilted his head and frowned. Something really bad must have happened to him, again. What was it? Had it been another fight with Joker and Harley, or maybe something with Two Face?

"Do you remember anything?" Bruce asked tentatively, the lightness fading from his voice. Dick shook his head slowly, thinking hard. What was the last thing that he did? Batman almost always tried to get him to remember things after he'd been unconscious or under anesthesia, just in case he wakes up somewhere strange someday and needs to act fast. An image flashed across his mind and a familiar feeling fluttered in his stomach. He nodded.

"I remember a toxin..." He bit his lip. It was like his memory had been put through a shredder, and then the scraps were shredded again. Piecing it together again was a serious challenge. "Leslie said I wasn't going to make it…and then I was falling…the team had a party…" Recognition struck his face. His eyes grew large. "What happened to me, Bruce?"

The fear in his voice almost tore the man's heart. Bruce placed his hand on Dick's arm. "We had to inject you with the antitoxin, even though we weren't sure how your body would respond. Your immune system shut itself down, and you were in a coma for a week and a half." Dick's brows were knit together tightly. "The coma allowed your body to fight back at the toxin. You're better now."

Dick was still deep in thought. Bruce wasn't telling him everything. He wouldn't be so…poignant if he'd just gone into a coma. Sure he'd be troubled, but something about him had changed. "Bruce, what else happened?"

The man looked into the boy's eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to lie to him. He ran a hand through his hair. "You were dead for more than ten minutes, Dick. M'gann traveled into your mind to try and save you, and you were revived."

Dick's eyes expanded more, if that was even possible. He gulped. He'd actually died. As in no heartbeat, no pulse, no _anything_...

He remembered it, only faintly. The images were there: the slideshow of his past, the yellow light sucking him in, the explosion. There was a point when he had seen someone, had it been M'gann? She'd rescued him or something.

He looked back at Bruce. "I was really dead?"

Bruce nodded gravely.

"That's…that's kind of awesome." Dick stated, congratulating himself for coming back from the dead. He kind of _was_ a zombie now. Suck it, Wally.

"Dick, that's not all. You…you told me to read a letter…"

Dick gasped, mortified. He'd forgotten he told Bruce about it that night. That had been when he thought he was really _not_ coming back. "You didn't actually read it, did you? I mean, I know I told you to, but it was just a precau –"

"Dick, I read it."

His words hung in the air. Dick looked down, almost ashamed. He'd meant every word that he'd said in that letter, but he could never have told Bruce the way he felt in person. There were so many private thoughts, thoughts he didn't want to have to discuss with Bruce. Like, _ever_. Then he'd sounded so pathetic and inferior in the note, something he tried often to hide from his mentor.

"That was one of the bravest things you've ever done." Bruce said. Dick's head popped up, amazement and incredulity on his face. "I would never be able to tell everyone goodbye like that. And Dick…" He sounded exasperated, like he shouldn't have to say what came next. "I do see you as my son. When you were in that coma, I don't think I've ever been so frightened. After I read your letter, I wished I would have told you that sooner. I wished I would have told you that you mean everything to me, Dick."

Dick's eyes watered. He hated it when he became so emotional, so fluffy, but right now he didn't really care. He smiled at Bruce before falling back asleep.

* * *

"Does anyone have a marker?"

"Wally!"

"Ow!"

"Stop arguing."

"We're not arguing! She just hit m– ow! Cut it out! Kal, tell her to stop!"

"Guys, maybe you should be quiet. Dick is sleeping."

"M'gann, he's been _sleeping_ for 12 days!"

"You're such an idiot."

"You're the one dating me."

Dick opened his eyes. The team was positioned around his bed, garbed in civvies and casual clothes. Artemis was standing next to Wally, who was rubbing his bruising arm. M'gann, Kaldur, and Superboy stood to his right, all looking terribly annoyed.

Dick beamed. Just like old times.

"Dick!" Wally said, noticing his friend staring at them with his usual smirk.

The others turned toward him happily and patiently as if waiting for the "ok".

"Come on. Let's just get it over with." Dick said, exasperated, only not really as much as he let on.

He was attacked by Wally, Artemis, and M'gann's outstretched arms. They squeezed him tight and lovingly, like they hadn't realized what he meant to them until he was gone. Dick could relate.

Kaldur placed his hand on Dick's shoulder, and Superboy stood there stubbornly with his arms crossed. "Not even going to say hi, Supey?" Dick murmured through Artemis' hair. He couldn't breathe. "You won't hurt me, I promise."

Superboy couldn't help but smile and joined the party, ruffling Dick's hair and saying, "Hi." They finally stepped back, allowing him to inhale. He sat up in his bed, looking around the room happily.

His eyes landed on M'gann. He remembered everything she had done for him and thought in her direction, _Thank you, M'gann. I'd be lost without you. _She nodded, her eyes brimming with water. They would always have that bond. She'd been inside his mind. Deep inside his mind. She'd saved him from...himself.

"Are you okay, Dick?" Wally asked after they had visited for a while. "I mean you've been through serious hell the last couple weeks. Are you still…_you_?"

Dick thought about it for a while. He _was_ different. He felt older, like he had grown and matured a couple years' worth in a few days. He would probably be more careful, not to the point of paranoia necessarily, but less reckless and more "reck". He also might have more of a relationship with Bruce now that they faced their gray area. But he hadn't really become a different person, not really.

He still played with words and had a sense of humor. Wally and Babs were still his two favorite gingers. He would still kick everybody's butt at video games, among other things, and yes, he _still_ hated hospitals.

"I'm still me. I'm the same guy, maybe just a little bruised, but nothing a little rest can't handle." He sighed. "Are _you_ guys still the same? You aren't going to treat me like a piece of china now, are you?"

"No," Artemis confirmed, sitting down on the side of his bed. "The only thing that's changed is how much closer we all are." She planted a kiss on his cheek, making his cheeks flush. "I'm glad you're okay, Dick."

Wally cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I thought _I _was your boyfriend." She got up off the bed and stood behind the redhead, wrapping her arms around his waist tenderly and kissing his neck and laughing. He broke into a smile.

They talked for another hour or two, the team keeping him company and making him forget the awful place he was in. Dick thought about his farewell letter. He'd regretted not telling everyone how much they meant to him, and how awesome each person made his life. He'd make sure to get it right this time around. He had many more asterous days ahead of him to do so.


End file.
